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Here I am day after day wondering if he will come. I eagerly sit a the kitchen window waiting for this special person only to get stood up every time. I call and call but no answer.
Here I stand. Hit by 17 years worth of pain. Here I stand. Struggling with the most elementary problems. Here I stand. Against the ridicule of society.
The creaking of an attic’s chest which contains the stories of a previous life hidden as dusty almanacs. Rummaging hands find leather covers – life to the memories forgotten.
Flash, Back to the days When we believed everything anyone ever told us. Do we still remember them? It seems to me, Those days were so long ago, Passed by so quick. Now look at us.